Page 107 of Target Acquired

“How do I know he’s alive right now?”

“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it, but you’re alive because I need something from him first.”

And she was the motivation for Cole to provide that.

All righty then.

“And that little bomb at the warehouse? That was nothing compared to what’s planted around Cole. Now, get your pills if you want them while I walk around.”

She raised a brow but fumbled for the latch and found the bottle. She also gave the glove box a quick scan to see if there was a registration or insurance card to confirm the man’s identity, but didn’t see one. Two protein bars, a bottle of water, a phone charger, but nothing to confirm that this was Oscar.

She shook out four pills and put the bottle back while her brain processed that her captor had something to do with the warehouse incident. But for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with the connection. “Oscar, how did you—”

He laughed. “I’m not Oscar.” He shut the door and walked—no, limped—around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel.

And it hit her where she knew him from.

TWENTY-NINE

CRANE MANOR

NOVEMBER 1947

Eliza adjusted the headband and let her fingers trail down the earrings she just slipped on. The dress was new, purchased by her father and tossed into her arms with orders for her to wear it that night. He’d arranged a dinner party, and she was to convince Edward Hampton that she would make the perfect wife for him. She’d heard of the Hamptons, of course. Everyone had heard of them. They owned half the city.

They were also slumlords, and her stomach turned at the thought of smiling the night away at the man. But she’d do it. For William.

It had been four weeks since she’d come home from the institution. Four very long weeks of pretending, lying, acting . . . praying. And this morning, it had all paid off. Her father had told her she’d be expected to attend the dinner party and meet the man he’d chosen for her to marry. A wealthy man from a wealthy family. Old money, as he called it.

Her only contact with the outside world up to this point had been Dr. King, who’d snuck messages from Betsy—the only thing that kept her sane and encouraged her to pull on her strength to keep up the facade. He’d promised her they had a plan to reunite her with William, who was making great strides in his healing and was desperate to be reunited with her.

With one last breath and glance in the mirror, she went to her door, surprised when the knob twisted. Someone must have unlocked it while she was in the shower.

Eliza made her way down the hallway, following the path to the dining room. The large table dominated the area and it had been set to impress. The kitchen staff busied themselves, making sure everything was just so, and didn’t even look up at her presence. Voices from the parlor across the hall beckoned, and reluctantly she made her way toward them.

Please let this work.

The prayer slipped from her even as she curled her lips into the smile she’d practiced all day.

“Ah, there she is,” her father gushed. “Come meet the Hamptons.” He began the introductions and motioned toward the young man hovering next to his mother. “And this is Edward.”

Eliza turned her smile to Edward. “Hello. Lovely to meet you.”

“And you.” He inclined his head and his dark green eyes flickered with kindness and curiosity. He was a handsome man, and while she wasn’t drawn to him like she was William, she was able to relax and hope the dinner wouldn’t be a complete nightmare. He held out his arm. “May I escort you in?”

“Certainly.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and caught her father’s approving look. One day not too long ago, she would have relished that. Now, she just averted her gaze and turned her attention to Edward.

As time passed, Eliza couldn’t help the anxiety that grew. She was supposed to get Edward to suggest a walk outside, which would allow her to slip away as soon as his attention was elsewhere. Dr. King and Betsy would be waiting nearby to take her to William.

When dinner was over, Eliza caught the subtle nod Edward’s father shot his way. She pretended not to notice.

Edward cleared his throat. “It’s such a pleasant evening. Would you like to stroll the gardens?”

And just like that, her anxiety eased. “What a wonderful idea. I’d love to.”

“Fabulous,” her father said. “I’ll turn the lights on so you can see well in the dark. We’ll just be in the parlor while the two of you get to know one another.”

They both slipped into their overcoats and gloves, because while it was a lovely night, it was still chilly. Then Eliza let Edward take the lead.